Like Honey
by Moiras
Summary: Roy, not too fond of Christmas merriment, ignores Marth's subtle comments and hints but when the prince decides to be blunt, he discovers the taste of honey. [Short, one-shot, YaoiShounen-ai]


**Disclaimer: **Not mine, story is.

**A/N: **Short, one-shot, fluff, sap, possibly OOC, yaoi/shounen ai (it wasn't my intention, I swear), terribleness and…

        Merry Christmas

*~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~*

The savage snow flurries outside the crystal-encrusted window was making one young, red-haired warrior uneasy. That said warrior pouted, let out his breath in a curl of white and tightened his lips, leaning casually and morosely against a wall at the far end of the fire-lit, Christmas-lit, merry room.

        Another white, expelled puff of air, "I hate…this time of year."

        And a warm, friendly hand on his cold shoulder accompanied with a concerned and even voice, "Hey."

        "Marth." Roy acknowledged and was gripped by another wave of coughs that shook his body. Roy covered his mouth and doubled over. The blue-haired prince by his side furrowed his eyebrows and bent slightly by the coughing boy.

        "You all right?"

        Roy straightened, made a rumble in his throat to dispel the last of the fit and turned fully, "Yes, I'm perfect. Wonderful." The sarcastic tone did not pass over the prince, unnoticed. 

        "Roy…You've had that cough for …how long? But I should think long enough and it doesn't show sings of abating. Why don't you take _care_ of yourself, for once?" 

        The auburn-haired general made a face and laced his fingers behind his head. He looked up and then looked at Marth askance. "I'll be fine. Stop worrying about me." But his tone was unusually soft for his cold demeanour. 

        "Anyway," Roy made an elaborate gesture towards the Smashers seated around the twinkling Christmas tree with its iridescent strips of tinsel and glinting coloured orbs, "Shouldn't you be…with _them_? It must be very boring standing around a sour-faced person like me."

        Marth smiled slightly and gave Roy a gentle, sidelong look, "It's a time to spend with loved ones. And you're not sour-faced. I bet…you taste sweeter than you think."

        Roy bristled and crossed his arms, turning away, not completely sure to what the monarch was referring to and not exactly certain that he wanted to know the implications behind that statement. Marth had looked away, back to the giggling Smashers around the adorned pine tree, a small smile gracing his regal features. The silence was most unnerving to Roy.

        The night was just as lonely as the day. The snowstorm had subsided and now only a low and deep, husky howling rattled the windowpanes. Roy was curled up within one large, plush armchair that happened to be seated before an old, crackling fire. It was the only light in the room and Roy was the only Smasher in the room and the silence was being ruptured by the low crackling and spluttering of the fire. The wood shrunk in on itself and blackened within the devouring yellow flames. Roy sighed, his face lit golden by the dying embers and a glowing orange spark or two. And then the fireplace hissed, the light died and darkness spread quickly and coldly like gushing water. A soft gleam caught the boy's eye from the winking presents beneath the decorated-tree, infested with hanging candy, red ribbons and silver bows. It almost seemed to mock him. 

        A step echoed loudly around the room and merged with soft footsteps that stopped beside the general sitting in the darkness. Roy stiffened.

        "What are you doing, sitting in the darkness?" It was Marth. Immediately on the defensive, as his fiery nature was wont to do, Roy snapped, "What the hell are _you doing here?" The prince rustled and sat promptly beside the boy on the wide chair's armrest. _

        Roy's lips curled and he raised his crimson eyebrows, "Shouldn't you be in bed? Tomorrow's _Christmas." The last word came out harsh and full of contempt. _

        Marth ignored Roy's mocking tone. "In bed? Hmm, no…I don't seem to have a reason to be in bed. First, I'm not tired and the only other reason that would have me in bed is out of the question…" he gave Roy a _look_, "I think."

Roy uncomfortably ruffled his hair and ignored the prince sitting close to him, offering a warmth that the dying fire had denied. The boy coughed.

        "I can't sleep. My coughing keeps me up," Roy said. Marth sighed, exasperated.

        "Come to the kitchen with me. I'm going to give you something to ease the soreness and will make you sleep soundly." The prince outstretched his pale arm, offering the general a caring hand. Roy shifted onto the floor and walked past the prince, ignoring the offered hand. "I don't think anything you'll give me will ease me completely. I haven't been able to sleep properly for two years," Roy said, retreating. Marth, however, remained impassive and led the boy, through the common room, through the hall, through another room and into the spacious kitchen. 

        "Have you tried honey?"

        "Huh?"

        Marth held out a small, stout bottle and a steel spoon. Roy took the utensil and the bottle that held a viscous, golden substance in it. 

        "_Honey_…? Don't you have anything…_better_?"

        Marth smiled, "Honey softens the throat. I bet your throat is sore from coughing too much." Roy chewed his lip, staring at the honey and then seemed to make up his mind, unscrewing the bottle and pouring the thick substance onto the spoon and then putting it to his mouth to suck. The crimson-haired general repeated the procedure several times before handing Marth the bottle and the spoon. 

        "It's…my throat doesn't itch anymore."

        Marth put it away and turned, a small smile gracing his face, "I'm glad…"

        They were silent then, Roy's acid demeanour having suddenly been scraped away by Marth's concern and kindness- the boy felt awkward now. 

        "Marth-"

        "Look!" the prince interrupted, pointing at something over the boy's head, "What's that?" Roy looked up and there, above him, hung a tiny, faded plant. The general squinted his eyes.

        "I think…that's…mistletoe." 

        "Oh…" Marth gazed at the small plant, "Aren't we supposed to kiss now?"

        Roy choked and was attacked by a sudden fit of coughing again. "_What?!!_"

        "Yes, you know about mistletoe, right?"

        Roy blanched, staring incredulously at the curious-looking prince. "Yes," he said weakly, "I know…but…you're…I'm…we're…!!"

        "I didn't know there were rules," the prince said delicately. He knew he was treading on uncertain ground. He had had no idea how the fiery boy would react. 

        "But!"

        "It's Christmas…?" Tentative.

        "I don't care about Christmas!" Panicked.

        "I love you."

        "I-" Roy stopped, then stared, wide-eyed at the prince before him, "…what?"

        Marth smiled and leaned forward. The boy made no move but allowed the prince to kiss him, too shocked to react properly. Marth sighed against the kiss. Roy was not sour or acid. He tasted painfully sweet; like honey. And the kiss was like a fire too long suppressed, like the sun after a thick cloud, like a soothing drizzle after an uncomfortable heat, like a soft, moaning breeze. Then the kiss ended and Marth held Roy lightly. The boy was still frozen, trying to organise his thoughts and understand what had just happened. After a while, the general seemed to come to his senses and pushed away, blue eyes impossibly wide.

        "_Marth?! But…__how?! Since…__when?"_

        "About two years ago."

        Roy stared.

        "Come now, you never noticed?"

        "I…"

        "Goodnight, and," Marth glanced at the clock on the wall of the kitchen, "Merry Christmas." The prince bowed and was half-way out the kitchen when Roy pulled his sleeve, catching up.

        "Wait! I have to tell you…why I haven't been able to sleep properly since two years ago!"

        "Tell me, then."

        "Because…" Roy leaned up, touching Marth's lips with his own, and was rewarded with a gently surprised face from the prince, "I was unfortunate enough to be handed a room right next to yours!" Roy waved his hands around dramatically, an enthusiastic grin on his face, "How could I sleep knowing you were so near me, yet so far? It's all your damn fault, you know? What do you have to say about that?" 

        Marth was staring at the beautiful, red-haired boy in front of him, an unfathomable, rising feeling creating a silly smile and a dark blush to creep up onto the prince's face. 

        "I say…If it's my fault then I'll just have to fix that problem…" He took a laughing Roy, embraced him, kissed him deeply, pressed smiles all over the boy's face and led him to his room. 

        Guttural, rough coughs ripped the peaceful morning, a heaving back and a groaning, teal-haired prince. Roy smiled brilliantly beside Marth who was currently being overtaken by continuous, raspy coughing on the bed beside him. 

        "Marth," Roy placed a hand on the prince's racking, bare chest, "I think you cured my cough! I feel wonderful!"

        Marth rolled to his side to look into the boy's smirking, glowing face and glared, albeit with a flutter in his heart.

        "_And_ your sleeplessness," Marth said, mockingly-angry, "You slept like a _log_ even when I was coughing so loud it seemed the room would cave in."

        Roy winked, "Don't flatter yourself. I think it was the honey that cured me."

        Marth pounced, Roy's ensuing laughter like fire in the soul. 


End file.
